A/N: Hello, you dear readers, I hope you had a good week. I am delighted to know that you're still enjoying this story. Thanks so much for all your thoughts, favs and follows.

Last week, as you may recall, Anne was finding ways to deal with her frustration. ;) Now, let's see how our boy's faring out west, shall we?

~ J

Chapter Twenty Four

As the train drew away from Bright River station, Gilbert sank into his seat and blew out a long breath of relief. He'd very nearly lost grip on his self-control after that kiss with Anne on the platform.

The past few weeks had been excruciating. Every day he spent with his father, working as hard as he possibly could to try to avoid his wife, and the distracting new pictures he had of her in his mind. Anne with a scarf tied around her hair and humming to herself while she kneaded the bread dough and an adorable smudge of flour that he longed to wipe off adorning the tip of her perfect nose. Anne sitting in a beam of sunlight, her glorious hair aflame and her sewing in her lap with the tip of her soft pink tongue poking out from between her luscious lips in concentration. Anne bending as she placed a bright posy of flowers in a vase. It was maddening.

Gilbert sighed as he remembered the worst picture of all. Or the best, he could never quite decide.

Anne emerging from the tiny washroom upstairs, fresh from the bath, her skin still flushed and the steam causing delicious tendrils of her hair to curl damply around her creamy nape and forehead. The inexorable vision of Anne emerging from the bath each day was enough to drive Gilbert to join his father and the Buotes for a fortifying drink before dinner most evenings. It was all he could do to prevent his hands from reaching out to caress her rosy breasts, drag his wife into his room and throw her on his bed to enact his very dirtiest thoughts upon her.

Gilbert was grateful that the work out west gave him an excuse to leave Avonlea, if only for a few weeks. Being in close proximity to Anne day in, day out was beginning to take its toll, and as the train pulled away from the station, he wondered whether he should go to the lavatory to relieve the ache between his legs. That question was answered when a stern looking matron entered the compartment and gave him an imperious nod as she sat down on the seat opposite him.

Gilbert nodded politely back at the woman, relieved when she fished a book from her bag and began reading. She clearly wasn't interested in talking, which was a blessing. He reached up to remove his hat and placed it on the seat beside him. Then he leaned his head back on the seat, closing his eyes and allowing the steady rocking motion of the carriage to soothe his frayed nerves.

It was a long, arduous journey to the north shore of Lake Superior and Gilbert did not reach his destination until late on Friday afternoon. Robert Cassidy met him at the station and immediately took him to a hotel nearby for supper.

"We'll stay here tonight and then tomorrow we'll drive to the camp," Rob said over dinner. "You definitely don't want to stay with the other workers, and I've got us a room at the guest house nearer the site."

"How much will that cost?" Gilbert asked nervously. He didn't want to spend too much of his hard-earned money on accommodation. "Remember, I'm poor, Rob, and I can't afford -"

"Nonsense," Rob interrupted, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "We'll be sharing a room, and it won't cost any more to have you there, too."

"I like to pay my way," Gilbert said. "I can just stay at the camp with the others."

"Look, Blythe," Rob said seriously. "You're doing me a favour by coming here. Father insisted I had to work this summer and having your company will be a welcome change from the other dolts around here. Besides, I don't think we'll be spending too much time in the room."

Rob's mouth spread into a wide grin, revealing a row of straight white teeth which contrasted with a month's growth of scruffy light brown beard covering the rugged lines of his square jaw, and his tanned skin. Golden glints highlighted the tips of his light brown hair which had flopped into his startlingly blue eyes.

"I was hoping I might get a bit of study done in the evenings," Gilbert said, ignoring Rob's suggestive tone. "I brought a couple of books with me."

"Yes, I'd say you have much to learn," Rob chuckled. "But not anything for Redmond. There's quite a lot to do here in the evenings."

Gilbert glanced away uncomfortably.

"Erm, I'm not sure I'll be doing anything like that," he muttered, still not meeting Rob's eyes. "I'm a married man now…"

Gilbert's voice trailed off as his mind was suddenly filled with all those disconcerting images of Anne emerging from the steamy washroom. Culminating in his memory of that passionate kiss on the platform at Bright River station a few days ago.

"I understand, but surely you can join us for a few bourbons," Rob said. "There's no harm in that, is there?"

"No, I suppose not," Gilbert said. Although the daily whiskey he'd shared with his father and the Buotes at home seemed to have little effect on his body's disturbing responses to Anne. Maybe if he didn't have to see her every day, a little liquor might help?

"Speaking of which," Rob said, leaning back in his chair and gesturing to the waiter. "I think a small celebratory drink is in order now. Let's toast that clever redhead you've somehow managed to snag as a wife, shall we?"

"Hmm," Gilbert cleared his throat as he tried to banish the vivid images of Anne from his brain.

"To Anne Blythe," Rob said jovially, holding his glass in the air. "A fiery woman and a wonderful wife."

Rob laughed, before he tossed back his drink in one gulp, then looked expectantly at Gilbert.

"Well, come on," he said, pushing Gilbert's glass closer. "You must want to toast your lovely wife."

Gilbert picked up the glass and stared at the liquid inside with a slight frown on his face.

"Although, heaven forbid if she ever finds out what her husband got up to out west. I promise I'll take it to the grave. Drink up!"

Gilbert nodded and downed the bourbon. He gasped and blinked his eyes rapidly at the burning sensation in his throat as he swallowed the liquor.

"Cheer up, Blythe," Rob said consolingly. "I know you'll be missing Anne. Especially after only a few weeks of shaking the sheets with her."

Gilbert cleared his throat again. He didn't like Rob talking about Anne that way.

"Plenty of the boys here are married," Rob went on. "And they don't mind grinding the corn with some of the girls here. Nobody would blame you for doing the same. What happens on the railroad stays on the railroad. That's our motto."

Rob grinned again and nudged his friend with his elbow. Gilbert reached for the bottle of bourbon.

"I think I need another drink," Gilbert said.

"I'll wager you do," Rob replied, still grinning.

Over the days and weeks that followed, Gilbert discovered that the work was far harder than anything he'd ever done on the farm. He and Rob were assigned a handcar with two of the other men to carry and unload the required materials and tools for laying the tracks. Working the pump on the handcar was hard, sweaty work, and they generally had removed their shirts by the time they arrived at the work site. Soon Gilbert's arms and torso were tanned as much as Rob's. Every day was spent digging trenches, laying rails and hammering in spikes.

Every evening the men would eat a hearty meal at Rob's favourite eating establishment.

"The girls here are prettier than the other places," Rob assured Gilbert with a wink.

Every evening as they ate, the young girls who served them food would smile coquettishly and toss their hair flirtatiously. Rob and Gilbert were particularly popular with them. As soon as he'd eaten, Gilbert would invariably rise from the table and mutter something about having to study.

"I don't know why you don't stay for a little fun," Rob said, with his muscled arms around two girls who giggled on either side of him. He nodded to indicate a girl standing across the room from them. "I think Rosie over there likes you."

Gilbert glanced briefly across the room at a plump girl with reddish hair, freckles and a wide smile revealing a gap between her two front teeth. She was twirling her hair around her fingers and her eyes were roving up and down Gilbert's body admiringly. She was quite pretty in a rough way, and maybe at another time, Gilbert would be tempted. But…

"I don't think so," Gilbert said, shaking his head. "Thanks anyway, Rob. Good night."

Then the torture would really begin. Alone in his room, Gilbert would try to concentrate on his Chemistry text, but those disturbing images of Anne would immediately begin drifting through his mind.

Every night, just at the thought of her, his body would immediately begin to throb relentlessly. Worse, he had a pile of letters written in Anne's neat copperplate on the small table next to his bed. They somehow carried a faint perfume of lilies of the valley on them and would cause the throb in his trousers to pulse even harder. Cursing his own foolishness, Gilbert couldn't stop himself from opening each and every one, and was somehow strangely disappointed that they contained only the most prosaic details of her day with his mother or Diana or Marilla.

Knowing the busybodies at Avonlea would be paying attention to the frequency of his own correspondence, Gilbert dutifully wrote Anne a letter every day, giving her only the barest account of his day. Of course, he left out the specifics of the women who were boldly trying to attract his attention, rubbing their breasts against him as they served the meals, winking and smiling at him suggestively. Although many of them were quite attractive, Gilbert continued to ignore them, and Rob often asked him why. Even Gilbert couldn't explain it to himself.

Night after night, after an hour or two of desperately attempting to ignore the demands of the insistent throb as he thought of Anne, and alone in the room, Gilbert would admit defeat. Hating himself for his weakness, he would close his eyes, and succumb to those tantalising images of his wife, letting them flood his mind as he gripped himself firmly in his hand. He imagined Anne with her warm mouth on his lips or her slender hand sliding vigorously up and down to give him his release. Or his hardness buried to the hilt inside her as she moaned and bucked beneath him. Each fantasy became more vivid and more graphic as the days went on until he thought he would go mad. Afterwards, he would fling himself on the narrow cot he slept on and close his eyes, finally falling into an exhausted sleep and waking only when Rob returned to the room early each morning.

One day when he'd been at the railways for about two weeks, Rob convinced Gilbert to stay after dinner and have another drink with him.

"Come on, Gil," Rob said. "I think you should take the night off studying and drink some whiskey with me."

After two weeks of torturous evenings, Gilbert felt anything was better than being alone in that hotel room again.

"Very well," he agreed. "I suppose there's no harm in a drink or two."

"Marvellous!" Rob's smile was expansive. "I'll get the girls to bring us a bottle."

Gilbert was determined to banish those distracting images of Anne from his mind, so he began drinking with an enthusiasm that astonished even Rob.

"Steady on," Rob warned as he watched Gilbert downing the liquor. "You'll be pickled in no time if you keep drinking like that."

"Exactly," Gilbert said as he poured himself another generous portion which he drank just as quickly.

"Well, so long as you know what you're doing," Rob clapped Gilbert on the back and threw back a drink of his own. "I'll join you!"

The world got a little blurry not long after that, and Gilbert could only remember a few disjointed fragments of the evening. He and Rob seemed to get very merry, laughing and singing bawdy songs together. Then somehow a gaggle of girls had joined them at the table.

Gilbert had his arm around a girl with reddish hair who was sitting next to him. Her hand was rubbing familiarly along the hard muscles of his chest and she was pressing her fulsome bosom into his ribs. He frowned slightly, since her body seemed curvy, not slender and it felt all wrong.

"Not Anne," he mumbled.

Rob leaned over to whisper loudly in Gilbert's ear.

"Forget about Anne," Rob slurred. "She's miles away, and she'll never find out."

"Forget about Anne," Gilbert repeated, hoping that he could.

He had no idea how much time had passed before he was suddenly aware of a warm, wet mouth kissing him as soft breasts were pressed into his chest. He was still in the hotel bar, slumped in a booth with a curvaceous feminine form draped across his chest.

Gilbert's eyes were closed tightly as he thought about Anne's juicy pink lips pressed to his. When he felt a soft, warm tongue licking at his lips, he moaned Anne's name and eagerly thrust his tongue into the redhead's mouth in response, grabbing a handful of hair to kiss her harder.

The lips withdrew immediately and he heard a female voice ask, "Who's Anne?"

Gilbert instantly felt the throbbing heat in his veins turn to ice at the sound of the girl's voice, and when he opened his eyes, he knew it was over. Her hair wasn't the right shade of red and glowed brassily in the dim lamplight. Gilbert wanted the vibrant red-gold that was as alluring and distinctive as Anne herself. The girl's skin wasn't pale enough and her nose wasn't pretty or adorned with those seven seductive freckles which had captivated him since he was thirteen years old. Worst of all, her eyes weren't the fascinatingly starry pools of grey that he craved.

Gilbert stared at the stranger with her mouth agape, not even dismayed that he couldn't continue. He moved back and sat up abruptly.

"Anne's my wife," he replied, pushing her away from his chest.

"Ain't she the lucky one?" the young woman said.

"I'm sorry, I thought I could do this, but I can't."

"You must love her a lot," she said.

Gilbert's heart twisted in his chest as he realised the girl was right, and he knew what a fool he was. How could he still be in love with Anne? After all her betrayals, her insistence on their marriage remaining chaste so she could get an annulment as soon as she turned twenty-five, and all the humiliation he'd endured, knowing he was her last, desperate choice as a husband, only marginally better than Charlie Sloane. He knew the only reason Anne had married him was because she wanted to save Green Gables for Marilla, and yet his foolish heart continued to hammer in his chest and his body refused to stand down whenever he was near her.

Swallowing hard, Gilbert nodded his head.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," he replied hoarsely, blinking his eyes rapidly. For a moment, Gilbert was afraid he was about to start blubbering.

"Why do you look so sad?" the girl asked kindly. "Do you miss her that much?"

Suddenly, this felt wrong and dirty and he couldn't get away fast enough.

"I'm sorry," he said, realising he didn't even know this girl's name. Lily? Daisy? It didn't matter. "I have to go."

Gilbert stood up and strode unsteadily from the room, pausing only to grab his jacket from the the coat stand, thrusting his arms into the sleeves as he burst out the door. He stood outside, sucking in huge gulps of fresh air as he wondered how his life had come to this.

It was bad enough that he was doomed to endure a sham marriage with Anne for years to come, now even his traitorous body had betrayed him. Gilbert knew with certainty that there was nobody else who could assuage this craving deep in his gut and the hopeless longing in his heart. There never could be anybody else for him but Anne. For years, Anne had suffused his dreams. And not just his lust-filled fantasies. He'd dreamed of a home with a hearthfire in it, a cat and dog, the footsteps of friends - and Anne.

Even though she was his wife now, as Gilbert stumbled away, his eyes filled with tears when he realised that long-held dream would never, ever be. The loneliness washed over him as he considered the empty years ahead and the grief threatened to engulf him.

Thanks so much for reading! My thanks also to kwak for her unfailing support and to Maud for introducing us to such beautiful characters.

Next week, dear reader, our newly-weds will be back together again. This time in Kingsport, ready to start their final year at Redmond as a married couple.

Maybe you'd care to leave me your thoughts about this chapter before then? I'd love it if you would.

Love to all from FKAJ x